


For My Own

by lesdemonium (winnerstick)



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, First Christmas, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Gift Exchange, Gift Giving, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:39:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28316889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/lesdemonium
Summary: Jaskier and Geralt spend their first Yule together.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 147
Collections: Geraskier Holiday Exchange 2020





	For My Own

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prompt for the geraskier holiday exchange for [kate/jaskierofrivia](). i hope you enjoy!!
> 
> This is a combination of the prompts:  
> 1\. First Christmas together as a couple, spending it alone just the two of them (canon)  
> 2\. First time Geralt has ever actually celebrated Christmas, because it’s the first time he’s ever wanted to (because he finally gets to spend it with Jaskier) (Canon)  
> 4\. Spend Christmas together in the most exclusive, expensive inn in all of Novigrad, with a snowstorm raging outside, pressing expensive jewellery into (or onto 😜) each other’s hands
> 
> (only sort of for the last two)

“Gods, it’s beautiful out.”

Geralt grunted noncommittally and Jaskier turned away from his look out the window to raise an eyebrow at the witcher. He was sat upon the bed, grinding some herbs to replenish a potion, and Jaskier rolled his eyes. Really, he should have said something about Geralt grinding herbs  _ on their bed _ , but Jaskier supposed he could pick his battles. At least he wasn’t coming back from a hunt and leaving monster entrails all over the sheets. Again.

The inn they were staying at wasn’t anything particularly spectacular. Jaskier had angled them toward a better one, one with an actual comfortable bed and the ability to take a bath, because Geralt had made an offhand comment about snow possibly coming in, and Jaskier had learned long ago to trust Geralt when he said these things. Lo and behold, now it was far too snowy for them to continue south to warmer weather.

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment, Geralt?” Jaskier asked, sitting beside Geralt with a heavy sigh, and reaching out to take the items from Geralt’s hands. “You’re supposed to be relaxing. With me. Enjoying the day.”

“Not much to enjoy about getting snowed in,” Geralt answered, raising an eyebrow. “We were supposed to be on the road today.”

Jaskier’s second sigh was loud and dramatic, and the longer it went on the more even Geralt couldn’t hide his small smile. Jaskier put the pestle and mortar on the table, and draped himself over the bed, his head in Geralt’s lap. “Geralt, you are the worst lover I have ever had,” Jaskier whined. “It’s like you do things on  _ purpose _ just to torment me. Are you being deliberately obtuse? Do you not see the romantic implications of the weather, our  _ togetherness _ , the  _ time of year _ ?”

Geralt smirked and ran his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. “Use your words, Jaskier,” he teased.

Jaskier’s eyes narrowed and he pinched Geralt’s thigh, though through his trousers, he probably hardly felt anything. “We’re snowed in,  _ together _ , during Yule, our first together I’d like to point out, and you want to do  _ busywork tasks _ ?” Jaskier huffed and crossed his arms. “When you suggested we spend the winter together, I thought there would be  _ some _ consideration of the novelty of it all, but you are still the same as you ever were. I’m just colder and considerably less fattened up.”

The hand in Jaskier’s hair kept moving, and Jaskier closed his eyes as Geralt began to twist and possibly even braid the strands. If Jaskier had to be honest, he  _ had _ been enjoying his winter with Geralt. Sure, staying holed up in a court and singing songs to rich nobles and dining on their expensive food was nice, and he missed the comfort of it all. Staying with Geralt, however, had made a peaceful sort of happiness settle within Jaskier. He much preferred this, but if he had his way, the following year they would make much better plans than simply continuing on the Path. Maybe he’d ask after Kaer Morhen, and try to force Geralt’s hand in that direction.

“If you’re missing attention, you could probably go downstairs and play for the others snowed in here,” Geralt answered. There was a smile in his voice. Apparently, this was funny.

“I don’t want  _ their _ attention,” Jaskier said, opening his eyes again to scowl at the witcher. “I want  _ yours _ .” He considered Geralt’s face, then felt his own heat up in embarrassment. “Should I have--you don’t even care about Yule, do you? Oh, bollocks. You didn’t even realize it  _ was _ Yule.” Jaskier sat up. “I didn’t think to ask if you even recognized it or celebrated it or--”

“Jaskier.” Geralt cut him off with a hand at his elbow. “I know it’s Yule.”

“But you didn’t  _ say _ anything.” Jaskier was well aware he was whining now. He didn’t mean to, but he was a little bit embarrassed and a  _ lot _ disappointed. “Never mind, just forget it. This time, I cannot blame your lack of communication, because it was my  _ own _ lack of communication that made for this false start of a conversation.”

Geralt’s fingers slid down to Jaskier’s and lifted Jaskier's arm. Jaskier fixed him with an unimpressed look--he did  _ not _ want Geralt to try to distract him, mostly because he knew Geralt would succeed--as Geralt pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s knuckles. Then his lips trailed along Jaskier’s skin, stopping only to press a kiss to the back of his hand, then over the veins of his wrist as Geralt turned his hand over, then up his forearm, pushing the fabric of Jaskier’s loose shirt up as he went.

“Geralt, I don’t want you to--” Jaskier started, just as Geralt’s lips pressed against the inside bend of his elbow.

“So you don’t want your gift?” Geralt interrupted.

Jaskier’s eyebrows furrowed and he studied Geralt suspiciously. “I thought you didn’t celebrate Yule.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “No, you decided that when you were rambling,” he shrugged. “My brothers and I usually drink and exchange small, useful gifts. Extra potions, new whetstones, pieces of leather. Things like that. This is my first time… really celebrating it. You didn’t say anything, so I didn’t know if you would want to.”

With a small smile, Jaskier cupped Geralt’s face with his free hand. “Oh, Love. I do. I want to very much. There’s nothing I want more,” he said, with as much sincerity as he could.

“Good.” A moment later, Geralt retrieved something from his pocket, and he took Jaskier’s wrist again. He fumbled for a moment, then pulled away to reveal a thin golden chain around Jaskier’s wrist. It was small, delicate, with tiny yellow gemstones every few centimeters. Jaskier couldn’t help the way his face broke into a wide smile and he trailed the fingers of his other hand over the chain.

“Geralt, it’s beautiful,” he whispered. Jaskier looked up to meet Geralt’s eye and, for once, Geralt looked proud of something he had done. “You don’t get to buy pretty things often, do you? Such a shame. You’re very good at it.”

Now, Geralt’s smile grew sheepish, and to save himself the mortification of answering, Geralt pulled Jaskier in for a kiss with a gentle hand on Jaskier’s jaw. Jaskier wouldn’t complain, though he did finally have to be the one to break the kiss. With a great amount of regret.

“I have something for you, too,” Jaskier said, and stood up to retrieve his bag.

There, at the bottom of his pack, Jaskier had hidden a small box. There was no chance Geralt would go through Jaskier’s bag for anything short of an emergency, but Jaskier had been jumpy about it all week anyway. He removed the box from the bag, then turned to Geralt. For once in his life, Jaskier was feeling  _ shy _ . Maybe even a bit embarrassed. No, definitely embarrassed. Incredibly embarrassed. He held out the box anyway.

“It’s silly and I know you aren’t really one for--”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, holding up his hand to cut off Jaskier’s ramble before it could begin. Geralt opened the box and stared at the ring on a long chain. The chain was much sturdier than the one Jaskier was now wearing, one that wouldn’t slice through as easily during a hunt. And the ring on the end--

“It’s my signet. So that--so that even when we’re apart, you have a piece of me,” Jaskier said, flushing. He sat down on the bed beside Geralt, but did not look at him. “You aren’t one for jewelry, I know. But I thought you might--”

Geralt didn’t answer, but he slipped the chain over his head and under his shirt. He took Jaskier’s hand and pressed Jaskier’s palm to the bump of the ring, just over his heart, just beside his medallion. Geralt let go, but still Jaskier lingered, and drew closer. His hand was trapped between them as they kissed, long and lingering, and Geralt wrapped a warm arm around Jaskier’s waist.

“I love you,” Jaskier whispered against Geralt’s lips.

Geralt hummed, ran his thumb over Jaskier’s bracelet, and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Jaskier’s lips again. “I love you,” he answered.

The snow continued to fall outside the window. But even Geralt, later, after the sun had set and they had started in on some spiced spirits, could admit that it was beautiful.


End file.
